Mirage
by ZelotOneShotter
Summary: What happens to a person when they can no longer trust what their eyes tell them are right in front of them? By a chance encounter, see what happens when a young Harry is greatly influenced by a muggle magician's Slight of Hand. Did you really see what you saw or was your mind playing tricks on you?
1. Chapter 1

AN: A little something that came to mind while I was playing my Guild Wars 2 mesmer character, and I thought to myself, "What would it be like if Harry could create illusions to manipulate the senses of others like the mesmer?" and so this was born.

* * *

If Petunia had known, years ago, that the school had had a performing magician do a show for her son and nephew's class, pull rabbits out of a hat and the like, Petunia would have screamed the buildings to the ground till all that was left was rubble.

This…performing artist, sleight of hand and whatnot, had mesmerised her nephew, Harry, in total bewilderment, and had taken up the goal of replicating the effects that he had seen.

The biggest difference however between the magician and Harry Potter though was huge, while the magician had no real magic and relied on tricks of the eyes and sleight of hand to do his tricks, Harry had actual magic.

At the very impressionable age of six, Harry had developed a fascination for optical illusions, an enthralment that would explode within the following years to completely one eighty the Dursley family's oh so perfect life.

* * *

It started 2 weeks after the show from the magician, Harry was in the playground bouncing a ball against the wall back to himself, for due to Dudley and his gang of mean spirited friends Harry had no one that wanted to come near him to play with, so he played by himself.

If one were to watch the lone bespectacled boy they would note that he had exceptional hand eye coordination as Harry bounced the single tennis ball, borrowed from the sports storage room for recess, from one hand to the other, one throwing and the other catching, his green eyes tracking the balls trajectory through the air so his opposite hand could catch it.

Dudley, as he approached his cousin, saw none of this, intent only to take away the one thing that Harry had that gave him and semblance of happiness.

"Hey freak," the stocky little boy called out, using the usual euphemism that he had heard his parents call Harry time and time again. "Give me that ball! Freaks like you aren't allowed to play with stuff like that!"

Normally one to bow down to his cousins demands, today Harry was feeling quite different, he was testing out a different way to throw the ball and was trying out how the different throw effected how it bounced, and after that if he could catch it.

"Tell you what Dudders," Harry began making Dudley go still, his mother's pet names for him were not something he liked his friends to hear as they were mightily embarrassing. "I'll play you for it, you catch the ball and you can have it. Just you, me, the ball and the wall."

Dudley was a little dumbstruck, this wasn't how it went, Dudley would tell Harry to do something and Harry would do it, this was off script!

Caught off guard, Dudley stammered out an acceptance, quickly thinking that this would be easy, all he had to do was catch a ball, how hard could that be? Besides it gave Dudley the perfect excuse to be close enough to Harry for a little…push, for having the ball in the first place.

Dudley took a step or two from Harry facing the wall and as Harry threw the small green sphere Dudley darted at him, bowling him over like a block of polystyrene, his chubby hands moving to catch the ball that had bounced from the wall and was heading right back to him.

Very upset at being shoved to the ground, something that Harry should have expected to happen, Harry felt a minute burst of anger course through him as he tracked the tennis ball with his eyes, silently wishing as a consequence of being shoved Dudley shouldn't be allowed to get the ball.

An instant later Harry starred at Dudley as he cheered giddily, at having pushed Harry over and beaten him at his own game again.

"There you go Freak, I beat you again." He bragged.

"Umm, Dud, there's nothing in your hand." One of his gang said making Dudley stop in his whooping.

"What are you talking bout mate, it's in my hand!" Dudley retorted shaking the ball in his hands in front of his friends faces.

"Maybe you need glasses too, the balls in Harry's hands." Another of Dudley's gang said making Dudley go still, looking at his, shocking to him, empty hand to Harry's hand which had the ball in its grip.

Harry too looked a little startled, he was sure that he'd seen the ball go into Dudley's hand, but then why did Harry put out a hand on reflex to catch the ball then?

'I did bounce the ball differently, maybe that was it…but then why did Dudley think he caught it when he hadn't, had he imagined it or something?' Harry thought for a moment before the quickly colouring face of his cousin got closer to him. 'I did feel a little funny too.' Harry absently thought.

"You'll pay for that Freak!" Dudley spat before he began to waylay into Harry, raining kicks into Harry's prone form on the ground.

Minutes later when Dudley's energy was spent he stomped away, his gang following behind leaving a quivering Harry on the ground, whom whilst silently crying from the kicking he endured, looked at the ball with a sense of wonder as to how that had happened.

* * *

AN: not very long, i know, it was just a basic concept of Harry using magic to create illusions like the mesmer.

and before anyone says it, i know it wasn't very detailed, it's part of the reason i only write for fun, i cant flesh things out in text from my mind the way i want them to.

if anyone interested in the idea feel free to take it and expend on it


	2. Chapter 2

AN : Writing up the beginnings of stories can be a very tricky thing to get going, i want to get to the good stuff but that's far off from where everything is at the moment.

On top of that i have all these other ideas that aren't works that i've published flowing in and around my head, it can make things a little difficult to write fics concurrently, makes my mind boggle at authors like DZ2, that author honestly scares me with all that they do.

This story is also inspired by 2006 film The Illusionist starring Edward Norton and Jessica Biel, a movie that i saw once and instantly imagined what the Potter-verse be like if Harry had powers like that.

* * *

For the rest of recess Harry was gingerly checking out his injuries from Dudley's kicks, it wouldn't be the first time Harry had received fractured bones from such an attack after all. It was just his luck that he healed very quickly from injuries like that.

'Heh,' Harry thought mirthlessly. 'At least Dudders lost the contest… but how did I do that trick? I know I did it somehow, like that trick from that magician…'

With only 5 minutes of recess left Harry just sat with his back to the wall he had been bouncing the tennis ball off of, his mind trying to remember how he had tricked Dudley.

The rest of the day whilst Harry as supposed to be doing schoolwork assigned from the teacher's Harry's mind had come to the conclusion that what he had done to make Dudley lose had to do with the silent wish Harry had made when Dudley had shoved him.

'I… wished… that Dudley didn't get the ball, and I made him think he did when I caught it.' Harry's eyes widened in revelation.

'I made Dudley see something that wasn't real by wishing it.' It didn't matter that his aunt and uncle had repeatedly told Harry that magic didn't exist, Harry had seen with his own eyes, watching the magician, that magic as real and that somehow Harry had done it too.

But as with all things, good things had to come to an end. Harry's discovery and consequent victory over Dudley had Dudley whinge to Petunia the second the two cousins had come home for the day.

"Mommy the Freak beat me at something today!" Dudley complained, with a glint of satisfaction of what was to follow. Dudley knew he didn't even have to say what it was that Harry had beaten him in, it could have been a 'Who could piss the highest at the urinal' contest for all it mattered, Harry knew that it was the rule that Dudley beat Harry at everything.

So, naturally, as a consequence of Harry's win, Harry had been pulled by the ear by his aunt and unceremoniously tossed into the cupboard.

"You'll get what you deserve when Vernon comes home." Petunia had vowed, slamming the cupboard closed.

'Wish you'd leave the cupboard unlocked.' Harry wished in his mind as the door cut the light from the cupboard submerging Harry in darkness save for the tiny stretch of light at the base of the door where the cupboard met the floor.

Touching at his ear carefully, as anyone would when part of their body as in pain, Harry totally missed that his aunt had, indeed, left the cupboard door unlocked. Harry wouldn't realise this until much later, when Vernon came home.

Naturally one of the first things that Petunia and Dudley had said to Vernon was Dudley's loss to Harry during recess that day.

Harry winced in expectation that Vernon would wrench that door open and deliver 'just punishment' to Harry for beating Dudley at anything.

'I wish Vernon wouldn't hit me.' He wished. He knew, that if Vernon did anything to him, that it would exacerbate the injuries that Dudley had inflicted earlier, increasing his level of pain a great deal.

Harry heard his uncle's footsteps, loud and thumping, come to a stop at his cupboard and closed his eyes tight and hoped.

The cupboard was wrenched open.

"Boy! You will pay for showing up Dudley today!"

Harry felt a rush of air pass across his face as Vernon's chubby hand swiped through the cupboard.

A little startled Harry peeked an eye open, Vernon hadn't grabbed him…why?

His answer stared at him in the face, it was his face, and starring back at him as Vernon pulled _not Harry_ out of the cupboard, slamming the cupboard shut again.

Harry could only sit still as his mind processed what he'd just seen.

Harry had created an illusion of himself.

Vernon had taken the illusion in Harry's place... like Harry, the _real_ Harry wasn't even there.

Harry's mind snapped back to his last thoughts before Vernon had opened the door.

'I…I wished that Vernon wouldn't hit me… and my wish came true…' Harry thought, totally dumbfounded.

Revelling in this discovery Harry was caught off guard when the door was yanked open again and _not Harry_ was unceremoniously dumped into the cupboard before the cupboard as slammed shut again.

As soon as the door closed, enveloping Harry in darkness again, the _not Harry_ faded away like he never existed.

"Hang on…" Harry thought, a frown on his face. "Illusions aren't real…then how did Dudley grab a ball that didn't exist and Vernon grab at a me that wasn't real…?"

Thus Harry's mind dredged up a memory of something that Vernon and Petunia had said innumerable times in Harry's short life that he almost smacked himself in the face for not realizing it before.

"There's no such thing as magic huh… let's put that idea to the test…"

* * *

AN: What will Harry do? What will the Dursley's do?

Suggestions are always a nice form of feedback


	3. Chapter 3

AN: Here we are again, my muse wreaking havoc across the potter-verse.

* * *

It had been 3 weeks, Harry counted, since Harry's tricks against Dudley at recess and Vernon with the cupboard, and Harry thought he finally understood how it worked, this illusion trick of his. At every opportunity he had Harry had tried to use it.

After the first week Harry was able to consciously create afterimages of himself, so that he could move without it looking like he had. This had helped out tremendously at the tail ends of the new 'Harry Hunting' games that Dudley and his newly formed friends, i.e. gang, had started up.

*Flashback*

"There he is Dud!" Peirce cried out with glee as he caught sight of a huffing Harry behind a tree a little ways away in the school playground.

"Get him!" Dudley cried out as he and the rest of his gang barrelled after Harry.

'Here we go again…' thought a quickly tiring Harry, he'd been playing this 'game' all lunchtime and was nearly out of energy, considering that he didn't actually have any lunch of which to eat in the first place.

Unfortunately for Harry his shoe stood on a flat stone in an unlucky step, making Harry cascade into a heap against a wall with a small cry of pain. Dudley and his gang took this golden opportunity to catch up to and surround him.

"We caught you, you know what happens now!" Dudley cheered with a macabre grin.

'Don't hit me!' Harry cried out in his head in a futile gesture, he knew no matter what he said he was going to get hit anyway but it was still nice to hope.

Then, strangely to Harry, as he tried to roll away from the incoming fists he saw _another him_ roll out and away from his body, that Dudley and his gang followed and began smacking with their small fists.

'Unreal…' Harry thought in wonder as he watched _himself_ get pummelled into the ground. Seizing the opportunity presented to him Harry got out of dodge and left the area.

*Flashback End*

The second week, with heaps of practice, had Harry be able to nearly do the afterimage on demand, and had Harry realize that whilst the afterimage was alive, those that were focused on the fake him didn't notice the real him, regardless of how much noise that Harry made in his getaway.

Afterward, in the third week, Harry had found a way to detonate the apparitions, which made those focused on the apparition of him dazed and confused, a skill that Harry used only during Harry Hunting and other times that might earn Harry some form of physical injury.

In fact, the Dursley's, all three no longer ever spoke directly to Harry, for just this precaution of being hit; they always spoke to an apparition so Harry would never endure another punishment from Vernon's fists or belt or Petunia and her frying pan or skillet again, say nothing about the roughhousing from Dudley and his friends.

As a small, very bright child, Harry used this apparition skill of his to great effect, especially the benefit of those focused on the apparition totally ignoring him; it allowed Harry to eat more food than ever before so Harry never went hungry. It was, in Harry's mind, the biggest boon of all.

Harry could also do work, be it schoolwork or chores, without being bothered.

That was something Harry realized his apparitions _couldn't_ do; as they were only illusions Harry still had to do all the actual work himself, his clones of himself just afforded him the benefit of doing them in peace.

'Although,' mused Harry one night under the stairs. 'Those effected by the clones don't see that they're talking to, or in Dudley and Vernon's case, hitting thin air; anyone not effected looking in on it might think something is off…good thing I'm barely a few feet away from the clones most times.

Harry was happily surprised that he could communicate through the replicated images of himself, his clones could in fact speak the words that Harry said; after all it would be quite silly if his afterimages were totally mute, then everyone would know something wasn't right and Harry couldn't deal with that possibility after finally attaining this form of power…this semblance of freedom.

'Perhaps I could find out a way to make those effected by the clones hit each other instead…' Harry thought idly one morning as he cooked breakfast, keeping an ear out for conversation spoken about the table; Harry still had to hear the chatter to know what words to feed to his clone so it could give a proper response.

With a semblance of happiness Harry snagged a few pieces of toast he had prepared just for himself, scoffed them down quickly before returning to the kitchen to begin the breakfast dishes. He needed to get these done before he left for school after all, or Harry and the illusionary punching bag that resembled him exactly would suffer the verbal lashings from his aunt and uncle; one thing Harry was unfortunately unable to beat with his illusionary skills, the yelling, shouting and complaining from his relatives.

'With this pretty much down pat, I think I can go ahead and ask the Dursley's about my family… I'm pretty sure they're lying to me about them being drunks and a car crash, though I still don't understand what being drunk really means… I'll ask them that too, what could they possibly do to me now that they can't threaten to hurt me anymore.' Harry thought.

Tomorrow was a Saturday, with all the Dursley's commitment free it would prove to be a very enlightening day for everyone under the roof of number Four Privet Drive.

The Dursley's were about to find out that the game that they thought they were playing had an entirely different set of rules, rules that Harry would set.

And when a young child like Harry was the one making up the rules, one thing was certain, nothing would ever be the same again.

* * *

AN: again, not very long...ehh

if you think you can do better, you're more than welcome to try, just send me a PM first to tell me, otherwise i will think it's another bot author like Tauri1 and its various other author names.

but enough of that, if you like it tell me please

Feed me your thoughts, even if it's to bitch about my writing quality


	4. Chapter 4

AN: Back again, with this one.

Not long I know, but this story is unexpectedly hard to write.

Eh, just what I get for going down this path, oh well.

A brief thank you to all that have graced this story with a view, have this on story alert, have Favorited this fic and/or posted a review, it means more than you know to this humble writer, even if he's not that great.

Now, Onward!

* * *

Petunia Dursley had a knack for reaching decibel levels that could be heard all across the street if she was pushed hard enough. Thankfully it had only happened one time previously, when Petunia had cut all of Harry's hair off his head except for the fringe (and boy oh boy did the Freak hate that look), to cover that jagged mark on his forehead, only to have it all grow back the very next day.

The eruption of such a loud noise had caused all kinds of attention to the house of Number 4 Privet Drive, neighbours thinking someone had broken into the house and killed someone or something similar.

This event had led to Vernon taking a belt to the boys backside, an action the large man had taken great joy in..

Saturday morning Petunia opened the door the kitchen and dining room where the Dursley family ate their food, to see the kitchen and dining area _filled_ with images of her freak nephew, some cooking in the kitchen, some cleaning the kitchen, some sitting at the table reading and others eating.

The sight before her froze her in shock, her stiffness catching the eye of _one_ of her nephews lookalikes. Then as one, all the replicas of her freak nephew turned their heads, in perfect sync, and spoke to her.

"Good morning Aunt Petunia." The harmonisation of all their voices speaking at the same time broke Petunia of her shock, whereupon she let out a near glass shattering scream that could be heard streets away.

A new record for her.

This had the immediate effect of waking Vernon, who could be heard thundering down the stairs within seconds to see what had happened to make his wife scream so bloody loud so early on a Saturday morning.

"What has the brat… done this… time… Pet?" Vernon began to rant/ask, before catching sight of the many Harry's in the next room, his eyes drinking in the scene in front of him making his mind go completely blank, unable to comprehend what he was seeing.

"Good morning Uncle Vernon." All the Harry's said, in a haunting unison that made the bulging man unconsciously shiver. Petunia on the other hand, hearing the collective greeting of her husband from her nephew, fell in a dead feint, unable to take what she's seen and heard.

"Please wake her up and sit her down at the table Uncle Vernon, I nearly have both your breakfasts ready." The Harry's all said just as they heard the thumping noise of Dudley waking up, it was a kind of sick sense, that food, not a sound like his mother's screaming had woken Dudley Dursley from the Land of Nod.

"Mummy… has the freak made my breakfast yet?" the chubby boy asked rubbing his eyes as he passed the threshold of the kitchen, and saw his mum and dad amongst a sea of copies of his freak cousin.

"Good morning Dudley." They all said, their mesmerising melodious words too much for Vernon to hear a third time in a row, making him feint next to his wife, his head banging into the table like a hammer.

Dudley just shivered at how creepy it sounded and like his father before him, making his mind go totally blank.

The Harry's, collectively, shrugged, before the many copies of Harry faded out of existence till there was only one left.

The real Harry, in the kitchen collected the prepared food from the stove and plated it all before bringing it all to the table in each of his three relatives respective seats at the table, before going back to get his own food and taking a seat before eating, for the first time, the good quality food that he'd cooked

Looking up from his food, Harry flushed in embarrassment seeing the other _food_ on the table, the food on the table that his doppelgangers were eating. Smacking his forehead for forgetting that Harry waved his hand dismissively, watching the illusions of food vanish like his mirror images had.

'Note to self, the visions of items can't disappear themselves like the clones can.'

A few minutes later, as Harry was finishing his breakfast of scrambled eggs, bacon and toast; his relatives began to stir from the noise Harry was making with his fork and plate.

'Show time!' With a snap of his fingers Harry created a copy of himself that was still eating food at the table whilst the real him took his dishes to the sink.

As Vernon rose from the floor he caught sight of the illusion Harry at the table, his face instantly darkening with displeasure.

"Boy! What the hell do you think you're doing, eating our food!" he thundered, his loud voice hastening his wife and son from unconsciousness; the scene of his nephew eating food instantly angering him, making him forget about why he was lying on the floor seconds ago.

"Well it's morning and I need to eat, I cooked a bit too much for the three of you so I plated some for me." Harry answered.

"What have we told you about eating our food, you ungrateful whelp!" Vernon spat, storming up to the boy to snatch up the back of his head of hair and pull it.

Only for his hand to pass right through the boys head making Vernon stumble, not expecting no resistance to his forward momentum as he leaned down.

Vernon fell forward, his face impacting the high back part of the chair making it, and him, crash to the ground with a bang, breaking one of its legs in the process.

"Whasgoinon?" Dudley slurred as he got to his feet, looked around the room, to see his dad on the floor over a broken chair and his cousin standing over him.

A child that was encouraged to beat on his cousin like Dudley, didn't have to think too hard on what he was seeing in front of him and charged at his cousin.

Having not seen what happened to his dad, Dudley was, like his father, unprepared to hit nothing and promptly lost his balance and tripped over falling on top of Vernon.

As the two Dursley males righted themselves Harry had a brainwave and snapped his fingers again, an illusion shimmering into existence over Vernon, and Dudley.

A perfect imitation of Harry fading in over Dudley only seen by Vernon, and another over Vernon, only seen by Dudley. Petunia on the other hand, was free to see everything, except for Harry's standalone illusion standing off to the side while Harry hid undetected to all of the Dursley family.

"Boy when I get my hands on you…" Vernon threatened as he got to his feet.

"If I were you Uncle Vernon, I wouldn't do anything." Harry's copy off to the side of the table chided.

This was completely new territory for Harry to be in, taking a stand of Vernon's treatment of him had Harry feeling an intense rush, he was enjoying this.

"Why's that freak?"

"Because only one of us is the real Harry, the others are Aunt Petunia and Dudley; if you hit one of us, if you can, you could hit them instead." Harry told his uncle, who was getting madder and madder.

"Boy cut it out with the freakishness this instant or I'll-"

"You'll do what? You can't punish what you can't see, and you haven't found me yet."

This seemed to give Vernon pause.

"I've been practising this trick for weeks and you've not even noticed." Dare he say it, Harry was feeling quite smug at the moment, the proverbial shoe was on the other foot.

"What?!" Petunia shrieked, finally coming to, having just heard Harry's bold statement.

"It's just like I said, I've been practising this trick for weeks and I've finally gotten good enough that I could use it on you like this. What can you do when you can't trust what you see?"

There was a tense few seconds silence before Petunia broke it.

"What do you want? You obviously want something or you wouldn't be doing all of this." She practically spat.

"I _know_ you have been lying to me about a lot of things…I want answers." Harry answered. Petunia stilled, of all the things she thought Harry would ask for, clothes, a room, a bed… _answers_ hadn't been it, and it made her stomach drop… she knew what answers he wanted.

She must not have sold the story of her freak sister and her freak husband well enough… or maybe she had oversold it, making Harry doubt its viability which had led to this.

* * *

AN: Like it? Hate it? Let me know, us authors are such review whores.

How will the Dursley's deal with this and what will Petunia and Vernon do now that, as Harry said, they can't really trust what they see?

And before any of you that read this say it, and I know when some of you reading this you're thinking 'what the hell?' I know I've written Harry to be quite advanced for his age, however, living in that house under those conditions I reckon it'd be a case of sink or swim, so I think it's justifiable.

Given Harry's skill set in setting illusions, _how_ do you think that Harry will go about getting the answers he's after from Petunia?

I'm curious.

Lastly, if you are going to point out errors please PM them to me rather than in a review.


	5. Chapter 5

AN: When you have fun writing something, you can churn it out much quicker than normal.

Enjoy!

* * *

There was a few tense moments in the kitchen as Petunia weighed the options presented to her. On one hand she could remain resolute and say nothing giving the Boy nothing of what he was asking for, which she suspected would go bad, very fast; after all it would only take one misstep on the stairs or a ignored red light on the road in the car to deliver serious harm to any of her family. She couldn't really see an 'on the other hand consequence which irked her greatly, her brat of a nephew, as young as he was, was deceptively crafty.

"Well Aunt Petunia, what will it be?" Harry asked glibly, having quite a bit of fun at putting his aunt in such a position.

What could he say, he liked payback.

"Don't tell him anything Pet! You hear me?! Don't say anything!" Vernon barked at his wife.

Harry shook his head, conjured an illusion on Vernon's face right in front of Dudley.

A little backstory, Harry learnt from very early on that Dudley was a brute and on the few occasions that the larger young boy had been close to his cupboard and seen its insides, more importantly, the small number of spiders inside it that Harry liked to think of as his only friends, his bully of a cousin developed a habit of squashing spiders flat with his feet when he saw them.

And Harry manifested one on Uncle Vernon's shin where his chubby cousin could see it.

Which the boy promptly kicked at, thinking that he was kicking a chair leg rather than his father.

"Ouch!" Vernon yelped as he felt something impact his shin making him wobble. "What the hell was that that hit me just now?!" Vernon bellowed.

"I just squashed one of your bug friends freak!" Dudley cheered giddily. Harry, standing safely off in the kitchen, snorted at his cousin.

"Even you can see how bad things can get when you can't see anything for real, if you ever tried to smack me you could always run the risk that it was Dudley or Vernon instead…or nothing at all, think of what the neighbours would say about that? Your oh so perfect husband and son shown as the brutes they are. Hell I could go one step further and make it so you can't ever see them again." Harry fake threatened, he didn't know if he could _really_ do that, but then again neither did they; after what the three of them had seen happen so far, could any of them really take such a gamble?

Petunia was a lot of things, easily jealous, shallow and a gossip monger being just a few things that defined her as a person but amongst all the bad things that she was, she was also a mother who did in fact love her son fiercely, one might say a little too fiercely as a means to overcompensate for there being another child in her house that she despised.

Being threatened with the possibility that she'd never see her child's face again?

No, Petunia Dursley nee Evans could not bear such a thought.

"Alright! I'll tell you! Just don't do that freakish stuff and take away my Dudders!" she balked. There was a snap of fingers clicking and all of Harry's illusions broke bar the one clone that stood in Harry's place.

"Alright aunty, let's hear it… and please don't lie… you don't know what I could possibly do if I found out you were lying before… so many possibilities…" Harry replied whimsically.

"Don't do it Pet!" Warned Vernon, who could finally see his wife for the first time in the last several minutes, a dejected expression splashed all over her face.

"Shut up fool!" Petunia snapped back unexpectedly, Vernon reeling back in surprise. Petunia never talked to him like that. "If I don't then we could lose our boy or I you…or you lose me…this demon's tricks could really hurt us and we wouldn't be able to do a thing to stop it! If we can't trust what we see what's to stop any of us from walking into a car on the road or off a bridge?!" Petunia shrilled, near hysterics at the things her mind was conjuring up from what could happen to them.

This seemed to do the trick and shut Harry's uncle up.

"Any time Aunt Petunia?" Harry egged on.

The long necked woman let out a defeated sigh.

"Your parent's didn't die in a car crash, they were killed." Petunia began, her tone totally dead.

"Your mother…my sister wasn't normal, like me, she was different, she had magical powers…" As the answers poured out of her, Harry was drinking them all up, parts shocked and existed and other parts equally horrified him.

Petunia, once she started, was on a roll, this topic of conversation having built up pressure within her and it all came rushing out, there was no censor of content, Harry had asked and she was giving it all to him.

If he couldn't handle the information given, she didn't care.

Petunia talked about Spinners End, the creepy boy Severus that lived close by, about Hogwarts (the little things that Petunia could remember her sister say about the place), about the war (what little she knew about it) and about Albus Dumbledore, the man that had left Harry in her care five years previous coming up to the last bit about Harry being left on the Dursley front step like a bottle of milk in the middle of the night.

It had taken a good ten minutes to get through most of the details that were lied about on top of everything else.

Finishing her retelling Petunia's shoulders sagged.

"Even if I had to force you to tell me this, I am still grateful that you did, thank you." With his piece said Harry had his clone walk on ahead of him through the kitchen door to the front door and went outside, leaving the Dursleys to eat their cold breakfast

Something about today just seemed a little bit brighter to him somehow.

=^o.o^=

Following that Saturday, after Harry had secured his position with the Dursley's and got the answers he was after from Petunia, Harry had forced Petunia and Vernon on a few other points of interest, namely the jobs they heaped on him and his cupboard.

Harry was done being their whipping boy that bowed to their every whim, doing all the work that they were too lazy to do themselves, that a young boy his age was not supposed to do (he knew that from asking other kids his age at school if they did the same jobs he did around the house, disguised as another kid or course) and told his Aunt as much.

Petunia had tried to kick up a stink about Harry bucking responsibility but Harry fired back at her, telling her that if she didn't do as he was asking, then he would destroy her image with the neighbours.

That shut Petunia up good and forced her hand in making Dudley do some of the chores around the house.

Except the cooking, Harry liked doing that, despite how he was taught by his aunt he liked using his culinary talents, the only good skill that his aunt had ever taught him.

"The last thing I want is to be out of the stairs cupboard, I want a room and a bed." Harry demanded.

Petunia made to start shrieking at Harry about being ungrateful for what she and Vernon had already bent over backwards to give him what he had, but paused remembering the threats that Harry made moments ago.

She complied with his request.

With his home life now a lot more comfortable, Harry tuned his attention to the wider community.

As he had trained his illusionary skills during recesses and lunches times at school he came to realise that he needed to find a way to hit a wider audience if he was to sell his clones as his stand in replacement.

So for the rest of that Saturday and the whole of Sunday Harry brainstormed ways to blanket affect multiple people, starting with his neighbours living in Privet Drive.

Harry, come early Sunday afternoon, had come up with an idea to whammy people in a group and had practiced it on the cat lady Mrs Figg and her cats, something else that Harry had to make sure he could successfully hypnotise into seeing his illusions, if animals couldn't be effected then he could be in trouble later on.

The idea was simple, it was like a smoke grenade in how it worked, once Harry pulsed a beat of power in a localised point, everyone caught within its wash would be effected by the illusions he cast within that area, the primary one being his stand in clone.

This new way to whammy people took him a few months to flesh out and work out all the kinks, until he was ready to use it full scale.

He'd dubbed it, the Whammy Wave.

His school had a morning assembly in their one massive General Purpose room where everyone was obligated to attend for morning announcements from the Principle and other teachers with important news.

This would be the area which he would enact his plan to mesmerise everyone in the school, all he'd need is a few seconds for his power to blanket everyone for his power to take root, then he could go about his business uninterrupted.

Not to say that anything of what Harry did in school while being unsupervised was bad, he just preferred not to be looked at personally while he did his work, he also needed to be close by to properly command his clone in what to do and how, after all the clone was an optical illusion and Harry needed to create additional illusions for the clone every time something physical had to be done.

As powerful as his illusions could be, they could not actually interact with the physical world.

And for a time this worked, a whole semester where Harry excelled at his school work and base skills to near top of his peers.

Then the unexpected happened and his whammy on everyone he'd hit with his power failed spontaneously. There had been a loud whoosh noise as his stand in clone lit up the classroom making everyone but Harry a little dizzy.

"Did someone leave the window open? Harry please go check and close it if it is open." The teacher asked, looking right at him for the first time in a very long time. "And please remember to sit in your seat and not on the desk at the side of the room."

Stammering a reply Harry did as he was asked, frantically working through in his mind what had happened. His illusion had collapsed?

No, it didn't feel quite like it had failed, more like the whammy he'd hit everyone with that was connected to his clone had reached a limit and faded away.

After checking the window like he was asked Harry came back, and quickly hypnotised everyone in the class again; if this method had a limited time to it then he needed to figure out a better way to make it stick.

'Maybe a better way to apply it too, doing it in groups at a time isn't effective enough.'

It was a problem that Harry would struggle to find a solution to for years.

The answer for his problem would present itself in the most unlikely place in a most unusual way years later.

The Principal announced one day at assembly when Harry was in the Fourth Grade, that everyone would be getting a free chickenpox injection to help pre-empt the possible epidemic they could be faced with, as the previous year around the same time there had been a small outbreak that had hit a whole year level and caused quite a bit of panic from the school and its wider community.

The many teachers on the school's staff, after the small epidemic had passed, had given an impromptu lesson on the disease, which gave Harry a brainwave.

'I could whammy everyone like the way chickenpox spreads, and have it like the disease so it would stay in them, like a marker like people that already have it can't get get it again... that way I wouldn't have to keep on hypnotizing them over and over.' Harry thought in growing glee.

As bad as that disease was to a lot of people it had solved a problem that Harry had been struggling with for a long time.

Now he just needed to create the... Whammy Bug (WB), Harry decided to call it.

Until then however he'd need to keep using the Whammy Wave.

Harry wouldn't finish the work on his WB for a whole year, mere months before his Hogwarts letter came in the mail.

By then Harry was self-trained enough in his illusionary skills that he felt ready for anything.

* * *

AN: Picking up the pace a little bit, getting so some good stuff.

Oh, I will say this, as a teaser for the next chapter, no Holly and phoenix feather wand for this Harry.

Go on and guess what he'll get.

And if you see any errors PM them to me, author bias as it is can have even the best writer miss something.

Five chapters in with a spattering level of views and visitors with nearly no reviews, i have to ask, does this work? I won't know something about it doesn't work unless you tell me.


	6. Chapter 6

AN: This is the longest yet and oh boy can I tell you, it was a rush.

* * *

When Harry finally finished his work on the WB and released it, it spread itself to the whole of his school, neighbourhood and from there beyond, by then it was coming up to mid-July and Harry couldn't have been happier that the Summer months were approaching, he was going to turn eleven soon, which meant according to Petunia, his Hogwarts letter would be coming.

By then the WB, designed to be just like chickenpox, had transmitted like an airborne plague, everyone unaware of what had been done to them.

When Harry's letter came, with a bit of creativity on his part, Harry thought he would probably have to hoodwink either Petunia or Vernon to take him to this magical shopping lane in London that Harry had coerced Petunia to tell him about, for his school supplies.

Harry couldn't really see either of them taking him of their own free will.

Harry had busted himself extremely hard over the years to complete his goals, for the WB but also in his schoolwork, he was in the top percentile of his year group, but not the best student, he didn't need that kind of hype, or the pressure to maintain that position.

In Harry's mind, ranking systems sucked.

Oh there had been a little trickery throughout, Harry couldn't possibly know where to find all the answers he needed to finish his schoolwork so he created a holographic Dudley to ask the questions for him from Petunia and Vernon, where Harry would take the answers given.

Harry, as himself, ask Petunia or Vernon to help him with schoolwork? Harry was a lot of things but one of them he wasn't, was stupid.

As guarded as the Dursleys had become from Harry with his image projections and illusions (near hyper paranoid actually) they couldn't not take the chance that the Dudley they were speaking with wasn't the real one and that he was trying to do better in school, so they answered when asked.

It really was driving them crazy, slowly but surely, not being able to trust what they were seeing, always second guessing everything for years.

"I'll be nice to you when I leave for Hogwarts, I'll shatter all my illusions and holograms while I'm away." Harry conceded one evening after school, at the beginning of the school summer break.

The Dursleys seemed stunned at Harry's declaration, they had all been under the threat of Harry doing something horrible to them without them even seeing it if they so much as talked to him wrong, to hear that Harry would relinquish that hold over them, even if it was only when he was gone, was like music to their ears.

"You will? Truly?" Petunia asked hopefully.

"Sure, no point in having complex illusions hovering over the house when I'm not here to benefit from them. Who knows, I might not have to put them up again if we're all civil to one another." Harry shrugged.

"Civil?! You call what you've done to us, being civil?" Vernon asked incredulously.

Harry sighed.

"No, I said that if you are civil towards me, then I won't have any reason to put them back up when I return, civility breeds civility Uncle Vernon. This is a onetime offer, you go back on it and things go back to how they are now." Harry replied easily, pausing a moment before shrugging.

"Eh, what the hell, why not?" with a snap Harry shattered all his illusions in the house of number Four Privet Drive, bar his one stand in clone, insurance Harry called it. "I've removed everything I placed in this house as a show of good faith, don't waste it or I'll have you tearing your hair out before you know what you're doing."

The Dursley three were over wash with relief at this news, to know for a certainty that what you were looking at, be it a wall, a photo, a person or any kind of item was the genuine article made them all immensely happy.

This quasi peace treaty between the Dursley family and Harry would actually hold out till Harry's Hogwarts acceptance letter arrived a few days later in the mail.

Sitting down at the kitchen table, dressed in a plain white polo top and denim jeans, Harry took a moment to look the letter over.

"How very accurate…" mused Harry as he read the address on the envelope that read Smallest Bedroom before tearing the letters cover to read its contents.

HOGWARTS SCHOOL of WITCHCRAFT and WIZARDRY

Headmaster: Albus Dumbledore

(Order of Merlin, First Class, Grand Sorc., Chf. Warlock,

Supreme Mugwump, International Confed. of Wizards)

Dear Mr Potter

We are pleased to inform you that you have been accepted at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Please find enclosed a list of all necessary books and equipment.

Term begins on 1 September. We await your owl by no later than 31 July.

Yours sincerely,

Minerva McGonagall sig

Minerva McGonagall

Deputy Headmistress

"Well then, guess I'll just have to send a hologram to this McGonagall lady, seeing as I have no owl to send a reply with. Won't this be fun." Harry mused before smacking himself on the head for such a stupid thought seconds later.

"I don't even know where this Hogwarts place is, can't send a hologram to somewhere I've never been before, idiot. Guess they'll have to come to me to get a response if I can't find an owl to do it." Reasoned Harry, taking a brief look at the list of items the letter came with detailing the course materials and requisite textbooks.

"Good thing it's summer, I've got some exploring to do." Quipped Harry with a happy grin.

"What's got you so happy boy?" Vernon asked, a little unnerved; he didn't particularly trust his nephew when he was happy.

"My school letter finally came. The _freaks_ were very specific about where to mail it to too." Harry smirked handing over the envelope, the address displayed clearly for Vernon to see.

"Smallest bedroom… those freaks are _watching_ us?" Vernon squeaked in alarm. Petunia and Vernon both had dubbed it the smallest bedroom when Harry had moved into it from the cupboard, as one of the only ways they had to snub Harry. Fortunately for both them and Harry the young illusionist hadn't minded at all.

"Kind of glad you listened to me about the cupboard all those years ago now aren't you Uncle?" Harry gibed lightly before leaving the room, missing the grumbling response from his uncle about brat nephews.

"So there's classes for… Potions, Transfiguration, Charms, Defence Against the Dark Arts, History of Magic, Astronomy and Herbology…nothing about maths or anything about science…that could be good or really, _really_ bad." Mused Harry as he looked over the two sheets of thick paper the letter was written on.

"Ink, quills and parchment? Uh no, I'll stick to paper, pens and pencils thank you, writing with that stuff went out a long time ago." Reading this letter that instructed him to bring such old fashioned writing utensils to a school told Harry that this place _had_ to be pretty heavy set in an old style theme, and Harry liked living in the Twentieth Century so he didn't know how well he'd cope. He was also pretty leery about the uniform too, robes sounded pretty archaic compared to today's clothes.

'I'll hold off judgement until I see them.' Harry reasoned.

When Harry had coerced his aunt into tell him about his mother Harry had picked up a lot, but there were a few things that sifted through the cracks of his six year old mind. He remembered Petunia saying something about a High Street for magical people (though Harry remembered she never used the term Magical and used her typical stand in) but the details she had gave him about how to get there had waned quite a bit over the years.

So Harry sought his _oh so caring_ aunt for a little reminder.

'If it meant that I left the house earlier then Aunt Petunia should be more than willing to refresh old information.' Laughing at the thought, Harry found his aunt peering through the blinds at her neighbours across the fence.

Seeing Harry in her peripheral vision Petunia turned towards Harry, adopting the usual stiff expression she usually wore on her face when dealing with Harry over the past half-decade, like she trying her best not to pass really bad gas in good company.

"What do you want?" Quick and sharp to a point, there was never going to be any small-talk between aunt and nephew.

"Just a refresher of information Aunt Petunia, where is this High Street that people like me go for school?" Harry asked. "Uncle Vernon has it right now but my Hogwarts letter came today and I need to go shopping for some really old style purchases."

" _It_ came?" Petunia's eyes widened, the hammer hitting the proverbial nail on the head as she understood what this meant.

"Yep, I just need directions and someone, you or Uncle Vernon, to take me to their shopping street and I'll be gone for most of the year, or close to it, until summer; if what you remember about how living with mum was like when she went to this Hogwarts place, was accurate." Harry told her.

"Charing Cross Road, the Leaky Cauldron."

Her piece said Petunia beat a hasty retreat from the window blinds to find Vernon, all too eager to shove Harry off into _his_ world and away from her family.

'Holy crap…I can't believe I didn't have to scramble their heads with holograms of crazy shit to get them to take me, I can be wrong after all.' Harry thought gobsmacked for all of a few seconds before shaking his head clear of the shock.

His head clear after a few long seconds Harry too left for his room, getting his prepacked backpack with a change of clothes in it and what little money he'd found walking the streets every now and then over the years.

Taking one last look at his very bare bedroom Harry left down the stairs and waited.

With a rustle of quick movement within the house, probably from Vernon getting ready to drive his unnatural nephew out and away from the house, Harry, remembering about the letter envelope, retrieved it from the kitchen table and waited at the front door (not wanting to leave anything like that that belonged to him behind), just finishing tying up his shoes when his uncle came lumbering toward him.

"This day couldn't come soon enough." Vernon grumbled as he and Harry left the house for the garage and car.

=^o.o^=

When Harry had released his WB into the neighbourhood, he didn't know then that Mrs Figg had access to places that he would later journey to, and the WB would transmit everywhere it hadn't yet hit, this included places like Diagon Alley, where Mrs Figg went to often via the floo in her house (legalized by Dumbledore greasing a few wheels with the Ministry of Magic's Department of Magical Transportation's offices) as a means of emergency if something really bad were to happen to Harry as well as supplies at Magical Menagerie for her half a dozen kneazle cats, because the woman had so many she ventured to the Alley a lot, even though she was only supposed to use the floo for emergencies.

And as it was designed to, when it encountered people and beings it hadn't yet touched, it infected them and continued onward and out.

What was different about then and now was pretty simple, the WB while meaning to _tag_ other people, all of them so far had been purely without magic, it'd never tagged anyone with inherent magic of their own; so as the WB tagged and spread about Diagon Alley's patrons and beyond it took time to _dig_ in deep enough for its task to be done before it could spread.

So far the WB hadn't encountered anyone it could not yet tag, it was a benign bit of magic that only existed to spread its creators web of illusions, so the amount of time it took for the WB to breach deep into its marks magic was reliant solely on the strength of the magic of the host; the stronger the hosts magic was, the longer it took for the WB to take hold and add its host to the ever growing web before lying dormant until the next person not tagged came near. For powerful witches and wizards the WB encountered it would take hours, but there were so few in that bracket of power that by the time any of them crossed Harry's path it wouldn't matter, the task would be done. In comparison to that small bracket of powerful witches and wizards, everyone else was tagged and spreading the WB in minutes.

When Arabella Figg had entered Diagon Alley's Magical Menagerie, because the WB was designed with animals also able to spread it, every animal got hit with the WB too meaning everyone that came into the shop and looked at the animals inside were also hit with the WB. With so many being hit by and spreading the WB eventually it made its way into Gringotts bank within an hour.

Gringotts goblins, a natural warrior race, had seen many of wizard kind try to hoodwink them for one purpose or another with glamour charms and other related magic, in each case the goblin's had a keen sense of when magic was trying to influence them directly. So when someone carrying the WB entered the bank to go about their business, the nature of the WB should have been picked up straight away by any goblin when the WB tried to tag one of them.

The only problem for the goblins was that they were too accustomed to the lavish magic of the wand waving kind, where the magic detected was recorded within a certain power range. The WB, in comparison to other magic encountered by the goblins of Gringotts, didn't even have enough power in itself to register a beep on their radar, not even enough to make them twitch the tiniest bit.

Mrs Figg had come to Diagon Alley days after Harry had initially released the WB, so WB had been spreading across Diagon Alley for at least a few months and was given the right amount of time to properly tag everyone and spread before Harry even got within a mile of the backstreet.

By September 1st it would have made its way to Hogsmeade and Hogwarts, by then tagging almost everyone within Magical Brittan.

When Harry was let out of Vernon's car at Charing Cross Road Harry could feel within his subconscious where there was a dense cluster of people influenced by his WB, giving him an indication of where he needed to go as a starting point.

Just before giving his uncle a mocking two finger salute and leaving the car Harry conjured a clone of himself and cast himself indistinct, making Vernon jump with shock, levelling Harry with a heated glare as the large man sped off down the road.

"Not even a goodbye…how rude of him. Ah well."

Harry began to wander down the footpath of Charing Cross Road, his eyes looking out for this Leaky Cauldron place, just about wearing his clone like a second skin so he could do the physical actions needed that the construct couldn't.

'Need to find a way to fix that one day, need more power or something to amplify it.' Harry thought as he found the sign denoting the Leaky Cauldron to passer-by's, sandwiched between a bookshop that had seen better days and a record store.

Harry was quite amazed at himself when he entered the pub, just by the feel of the place he could tell that his WB had hit everybody in the building. It actually floored him that he felt everyone he walked passed had been tagged. As he looked around the innards of the pub however, his mood took a sharp turn downward.

'It's like I stepped through a door into another time.' Crinkling his nose at the thought Harry looked around the pub, appearing a little lost as he tried to flesh out everything that he was feeling.

The zoned out expression of his clone caught the eye of the barkeep who hailed him over.

"You look a little lost there, laddie. My names Tom by the way, anything you need a hand with?" Tom asked kindly.

"I got this letter, all my aunt told he was to come here." Harry retrieved his Hogwarts letter and showed to Tom who's eyes instantly lit up in recognition.

"Ah Muggleborn ey? Not to worry, follow me."

Exiting from out behind the bar, Tom led Harry through the pub to a bare wall.

"Now watch closely laddie, this is the only way to open the door." Instructed Tom as he withdrew a thin polished stick from somewhere on his person and tapped a few select bricks in a pattern Harry did his best to memorise. Waiting a few seconds Harry watched as the brick wall began to fold in on itself revealing to Harry a bustling Alley of people, all of which, Harry was happy to note, were tagged with his WB.

"Before you do anything here laddie, I should advise you to see the goblins at Gringotts, the really tall white building right ahead of you, that's a wizards bank which will convert your money so you can buy your school supplies. Best of luck." With a pat on Harry's shoulder Tom retreated back to the pub leaving Harry alone.

"Right, bank first…sounds about right." Harry began navigating the crowd, expertly dodging out of the way of people that would have otherwise walked into him till he got to the tall white building, passing by short ugly creatures, with bladed weapons and decked out on heavy suits of armour.

'Ooh…scary.' Harry thought as he entered the front doors, passing the guards at the front into the entryway where he saw another two ugly creatures similarly dressed guarding another door, this one with an engraved message written overhead.

"Enter stranger but take heed…sin of greed…yadda yadda yadda. What a rich way to say steal from us and we'll kill you…" quipped Harry, passing the guards standing by the doors wide frame and into the lobby.

Being that this was his first time ever in a bank, this bank in particular, Harry was taken aback by how much grandeur this place reeked of.

'Are you ugly buggers are rich or what?' mused Harry as he moved to stand in a line to see a teller.

Whilst waiting, seeing as he was standing still now and not walking at a brisk pace, Harry took a moment to look around at the others standing in other lines.

'Eugh… thought so, robes are _really_ daggy; and this Hogwarts school uses them as _uniforms_.' Harry groaned at having to wear similar style clothing to what he was seeing, bemoaning his bad fortune till he reached the front of the line where Harry instantly noted the goblin he was standing in front of was elevated on a high platform desk to look Harry in the face.

"What business do you have with Gringotts?" the pinstriped goblin asked/growled impatiently.

"I'm here to exchange money." Harry answered, straight and to the point. The goblin pulled out a scroll of parchment and a quill making Harry, the real Harry, who had opted to stand beside his clone for the duration of his waiting, switching from wearing his clone to watching by the side of it.

Eyeing the scroll of parchment Harry rolled his eyes at how backwards this place was.

'These creatures use quills and scrolls of old paper too? Ooh boy this is going to be trying.' Harry thought despairingly.

"What's your name boy wizard?" the teller goblin asked. Nonplussed by the question Harry answered, instantly regretting it.

"Harry Potter." Within a second of these words clearing his lips the entire main hall of the bank went silent.

"Are you really?" A lady standing behind him asked, her face awash with awe.

Before he could utter a sardonic answer back the goblin at the desk jumped down to the floor.

"Come with me." He commanded. Nonplussed at all the hubbub that was happening Harry obeyed and followed the goblin through a door behind the desk into an office with mounted bones on its walls to a desk at the back of the, again, shining gold room.

"You say your Harry Potter. Many have claimed that, you have to prove yourself if you want into your vaults, considering that you don't seem to have your key with you, you will need to undergo a heritage test." The goblin declared.

Many over the past year had walked into the Halls of Gringotts, with, or _as_ a young boy claiming to be Harry Potter, each of them being pulled into a back office and told to undergo a heritage test, a standard blood screen. Of the many that had come, none had stayed to see the test through, unable to cheat the goblin.

It was starting to become really annoying to the pointy, long nosed creatures that worked the telling stations of the bank's main lobby.

Unknown to what a blood screen was, Harry was a little leery, and waved his hands back and forth quickly, or his clone did as the goblin was looking at _it_ and not _him_.

"You don't need to do that, I am Harry Potter!" he spoke quickly, unknowingly having triggered something in the tag that Harry felt the goblin had on him.

The goblin's black eyes seemed to glass over a moment.

"You don't need a blood screen, you are Harry Potter." The short creature droned out, stunning Harry.

Did he just do that? For real?

Holy shit!

The goblin's eyes refocused, seemingly unaware of what had just happened.

"Even if we have proved that you are Harry Potter, you still don't have your key with you, another one will have to be made, for that we will need your Family Account Manager, only they are allowed to make vault keys. I will have Manager Slingstone brought up here." Harry the clone frowned at the pinstriped goblin as he opened the door to the lobby and spoke to a goblin standing guard just outside.

Thinking perhaps it might serve him better to do this in person Harry shattered his clone, taking its place before the goblin returned its eyes to the office' insides and undoing his invisibility illusion.

One thing that Harry took a moment to learn about his creating and shattering illusions as he got better at using them was that even if he did so quite openly, those who were tagged by the WB took very little notice of the change, indeed they seemed to completely disregard that there was a change at all, as was the case when Harry undid his cloaking illusion right in front of the one goblin in the room and didn't bat an eye at the different Harry he was looking at when he turned around.

As a precaution however Harry usually did it out of sight, just in case.

Several minutes later, by Harry's estimations, another goblin entered the office, this goblin decked out with wide black shoulder guards with a gold trim and matching coloured armour, a claymore strapped to the regal goblin's back.

"You must be Mr Potter…" the goblin, obviously Slingstone linger said giving Harry a once over. "I say you do look a lot like your forbearer's James and Fleamont, Potter genes as they are. How can I help you today?"

"Mr Potter tells me that he does not have his key and is very uninformed of his status within our domain and those of the wand wavers." The other, less dressed to impress, goblin next to Slingstone answered.

"I see, this is irregular but no matter, we will clear up this issue and inform you of all you have to know before you leave these halls."

=^o.o^=

By the end of a long meeting period that ran for more than two and a half hours, Harry had been informed of a lot of things about himself that he had no way of knowing previously. Including all his family assets and properties.

Properties which Slingstone had said would take time to compile a list of what was still good to use and others that weren't. Slingstone had said they would send him an owl when the lists were compiled and checked over for Harry to look at.

'I'm definitely gonna need to use my clone and illusion of invisibility thoroughly.' Thinking back to the parts where Slingstone had described Harry being the Boy Who Lived, making him very weary of being seen in public. 'Best disguise the clone too.'

During the impromptu meeting with Slingstone, where Harry got access to his vaults with a brand new key created from a seven dozen drops of blood on a shiny engraved stone of gold(counted out exactly by Slingstone, Harry was a little woozy after that) and being given a moneybag with an Extension Charm cast on it to hold more inside than should be physically possible (which had cost a fair bit but Harry thought the benefits outweighed the cost), Harry was led to his vault where he loaded up heavily on the three types of coin available before riding the mine cart back up to ground level, leaving the bank.

By the time Harry finally left the bank it was high noon, a fact that irked him greatly.

'I had plans for today.' Harry thought, nearly sulking at having to shelve a lot of them.

One thing that Slingstone had suggested Harry do first when he left the bank was to buy his wand before all else.

"Though for some reason I don't think you'll need it nearly as much as other wizards do." Slingstone had said as his parting words before Harry was escorted from the goblin office to the mine carts.

Near immediately after clearing the banks outer doors and walking back out into Diagon Alley Harry conjured his Harry Disguise Clone Invisibility Combo Illusion(HDCICI), not wanting to run the risk of being seen.

Everyone around him, he felt, was under the effects of the Whammy so Harry did this all but casually as he walked passed people going about their business. As the HDCICI manifested into the visual world no one batted an eye.

'For such an important shop, it looks pretty dingy.' Harry thought as he located Ollivander's wand shop.

"The only reputable shop in the country for your kind to get your matched wand." Slingstone had told him.

"After you." Clone Harry (CH) said bemused at his creator. Harry just rolled his eyes as he entered the shop.

'I created a monster.' Indeed some of his HC's had begun talking back to him from time to time.

Harry looked around the shop, noting every shelf had small thin boxed lined up going all the way up to the roof.

"Wow… that's a lot of crafted wood." Harry stated with a low whistle.

"I'm glad you appreciate my work, Mr Potter, I take great pride in what I do." A grey haired old man said coming out of the shadowed depths of the store.

"Mr Ollivander I presume?" Harry asked with a raised bow.

"Indeed Mr Potter, and I must say how excited I am about this, I haven't felt such anticipation for a wand match in a long time." Dare he say it, but Harry thought the old geezer seemed almost giddy.

'Like a little girl on a sugar high…' Harry thought as he watched the spindly old man run about the shops many dust covered shelves collecting long thin boxes of wand, depositing them on a lone table next to an out of place register.

Taking a random wand out of its box Mr Ollivander turned to give it, handle first, to CH before laughing a full belly laugh when CH came closer.

"Oh my dear lad…" the grey haired man gasped for breath when his laugher subsided. "How much trouble you're going to stir up with this talent of yours." Harry felt great apprehension when, even with his invisibility illusion working fine, the batty old man was _looking right at him_.

"Come now Mr Potter, you can drop the charm now; you're here to purchase a wand, not to play games but if I do say that is extraordinary charms work, if not for particularly gifted set of eyes for wandcraft I daresay I would have missed you completely."

"You…you can see through my illusion?" a bit of a silly question given what the old man had just said but Harry couldn't help himself, for the first time in a long time he was actually a little afraid.

"Fear not young man, it is not the illusion, as you call it, that I saw through, if I did not know that you were here already I would have never been able to tell who it was, only that someone was standing where you are right now, your fabulous doppelganger being the only way I could tell for certain that it was you in my store and nobody else." Whilst saying this, like he'd been told some great secret, Mr Ollivander began sifting through the many boxes on his desk, pushing away well over half of the wands he'd brought to the table in the first place.

"Knowing that you possess such abilities Mr Potter I believe we can eliminate a lot of the choices here, many wands in my shop would not bond with a, clear, master of deception as you are Mr Potter; indeed to see you perform such skills without a wand is, quite frankly, scary. If you possess this much finesse with this type of magic now, I shudder to think what you could accomplish with a wand that bonds to you."

"Master of deception? Seriously?" Harry supressed a snicker at such a moniker.

"Oh my yes indeed Mr Potter, I daresay that should I find a wand that compliments this skillset of yours… the possibilities are overwhelming in their number, you would be able to convince anyone of anything if you approach the issue correctly."

"Nice sales pitch old man, now can we get to finding the wand now?" Harry asked with a quickly growing impatience.

"No one that has come into my store has ever left without finding a wand that is most suited to them, worry not your one wand is here somewhere, I guarantee it. However before you find it, I wonder if I may request you try one wand for me, for… curiosity's sake." Ollivander asked before vanishing into the back ends of his shop.

"Oh I don't doubt that. Just the length of time it will take to find… I haven't even held a wand yet." Harry said, muttering the last parts. Ollivander had vanished back into the depths of his shop, rushing back with several more, quickly discarding the boxes for their contents.

"Try this wand first…hornbeam wood, dragon heartstring, rigid, twelve and a half inches."

Taking the offered wand handle Harry waved it in a wide arc, blowing out an entire shelf of wands before Ollivander snatched it out of his hands.

"Nope nope." The shopkeeper uttered putting the hornbeam wood wand aside and taking up another one.

The next wand, Harry didn't catch the make, collapsed half a shelf on the other side of the shop.

"You know old man you should probably look into a firing range given what these wand trials are doing to your shop you might not have any wands left to sell by the time I find a good one." Harry commented lightly, being handed another wand before it was immediately snatched back.

"I have no idea what you are doing out here you unscrupulous little…I'll be right back Mr Potter, this wand is far too temperamental, snuck its way out here it did." Ollivander stared right at the wooden stick like it was an animal. "You'll be lucky if you ever see another hand again."

Harry watched the man disappear again to the back of the store, just a little bit creeped out my that display.

'That man is _not_ all there, he _can't_ be.'

Ollivander came back, unsurprisingly with another set of wand boxes, adding them to the pile already there on the table, making a few fall off the edge to the floor.

After many, oh so many wands and a _smattering_ amount of damage later the wand maker had dwindled his wand pile down to just one.

"I am certain of one of two things Mr Potter, that either this wand will match with you, or I will have to custom make your wand with materials that I scarcely talk about, let alone use." Taking the last one out of the box Harry took hold of it.

There was a moment of tense silence as Ollivander held his breath.

Harry could feel the wood in his hands vapidly heat up, a scream of some kind sounding in his ears like a distant howl before the wands tip began to spurt out licks of flame.

Quicker than Harry believed it possible for the old man Ollivander had drawn his own wand and cast a spurt of water at the fire, extinguishing the flames with a low hiss, smoke drifting up to the roof of the store. Harry dropped the wand on the table.

"I had a feeling that might happen…" Ollivander let out a sigh, retrieved the wand with a gloomy look about him.

"I take it that was the wand you wanted me to try for your curiosity?"

Then the wand maker divulged the secrets of the wand in his hands, that this wand had a brother in another wand, two wands of two woods but cores from the same donor; that the brother wand to the holly wand in Ollivander's hand was the one that killed his parents and gave Harry his iconic scar.

"Yeah, best I not use that wand then, might try to set me up in some grand last fight to the death…nope." Harry said popping the P at the end.

"Then I am remiss, I must make you a want from scratch, the good news is that I have the wood I feel your wand should be made of in the very back of my shop, where I create all my wands. You have shown me more than enough, with the number of wands you have tried, for me to tell which wood would best suit you." With a wave of his wand Ollivander flipped the sign on his front door from Open to Closed before beckoning Harry to follow him.

'Who would have thought such a shop could be this long…must be a Space Expansion in play here.' Harry mused as he followed Ollivander straight down a long towering corridor of wand boxes for 3 whole minutes till they reached a door frame with a missing door.

Ollivander ushered Harry into the workspace, Harry taking note of the many, _many_ stumps of wood held up on shelves around the room. The room was circular in its shape, just like the wood stumps shelved in it, bathed in a warm firelight orange from a single strangely bright candle that was sitting on a disk connected to a chain which held firm to the roof.

'Wood envy.' Harry couldn't help but think, his eyes jumping from stump to stump of wood, losing count after the nineteenth different wood in the room.

"I rarely make wand out of these woods Mr Potter, they are very rare and not easily paired with witches and wizards of usual stock. You however… are not usual stock are you, Mr Potter?" Ollivander asked rhetorically, running his fingers across a few stumpy blocks of wood before seeming to find the one he was looking for and pulled it from the shelf to a small circular table that Harry hadn't noticed was there until just then.

The stump was 2 feet high, quite light in colour, almost a white but with touches of pale yellow and dull orange.

"Tell me Mr Potter, what do you feel from this wood?" the wand maker asked, encouraging Harry to place his hand upon it.

"I feel… gentle warmth…it's almost _homey_." Harry replied. His magic seemed to come to alertness in a way that Harry couldn't describe, had never felt before.

Ollivander took that stump back and placed another one in its place.

"Try this one now, which one feels better, makes your magic sing more?" the old man asked. Harry took his hand to the new stump. Like before his magic rose to attention but didn't have that same feel as the first, that something was somehow lacking.

"The first wood felt better." Harry answered.

"Pine wood, I thought as much. Pine wands are wholly suited for very creative wizards, of which you definitely qualify, if creating clone copies of yourself and that invisibility charm isn't such an indication of creativity I don't know what is. I _know_ without a doubt that that's not all you can do, you will definitely go on to live an extraordinarily long life, Dark Lord or no if one ever rises. With this wood as the base for your wand the core is no mystery, there's only one core that could _ever_ work for you with this wood and abilities, the only other possible core is one I would _never_ consider using for any wand, boggart essence is entirely too unstable to use in something as fine-tuned as a wand."

"Well that's good then that this finally came to an end, I spent enough time today blowing up your shop as it is… no wonder Slingstone told me to come here first, I have just enough time to buy my textbooks before I have to find a place to stay the night." Ollivander gave Harry a searching look for a brief moment before nodding.

"When you are out buying your books for Hogwarts, might I suggest you make a visit to Obscurus Books, 18a Diagon Alley, they have a most fascinating book of exotic magical animals: Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them by Newt Scamander…read up on the demiguise, the animal who's hair will be the core to your wand. I say it will come in handy in the future to know about such a creature." Ollivander suggested.

"Cool, I'll look into it when I leave this place." Harry said. An animal that vanish like he could? Sounded interesting.

"But first a word of warning, Mr Potter… though I have not yet made this wand, I can already tell that this wand will go on to do extraordinary things in your hands, it is likely that with this future wand of yours, you will be able to hide in plain sight effortlessly from anyone who seeks you out or bring your imagination from your mind into reality… be extremely careful with it lest you become your own worst enemy." Ollivander said ominously.

'Eat your heart out goblins, _that_ was scary.'

"Your wand will be ready for pickup in a weeks' time, I _do_ have to run a shop and sell wands on top of crafting you this wand. We'll talk price when you next come in, given the wand core it will not be cheap, indeed it will truly be one of a kind."

Harry stared at the old man dead in the eyes.

"What you said just before, about my wand and what I could do with it, was so much scarier, then you had to go off and talk about the price! For setting up something so grand you totally sucked at the end. I'll see you next week old man." Harry said before darting out of the wand workshop and dashing down the long high corridor of boxes. He had a book on beasts to find and read, his other books could wait.

He had plenty of time.

"DON'T RUN IN MY SHOP!"

Minutes after when Ollivander knew for sure that Harry had left his shop the aged man turned to the stump of pine.

"I have some people to write to…" he muttered to himself, one about acquiring demiguise hair and another about a holly phoenix feather wand that did not bond with Mr Potter.

"I _should_ probably tell Albus about what I know about Mr Potter… but given how far this wand would take that young man… best let the old chap learn for himself." The wand maker decided, leaving his Wood Library, as he liked to call it, and find ink and parchment, he had correspondence to compose.

* * *

AN: Didn't think to get this one so soon did you? well I did say I was getting into some good bits.

The Hogwarts letter, I know it probably didn't come that early, but in THIS story it did, so if you kick up a stink about that small detail, I already know so don't bring it up. It's my story and I'm wearing Author Armour.

What kind of havoc could Harry cause with a pine and demiguise core wand?

Will Old Man Olli be the only one to see through Harry's mesmerising illusion prowess?

And the Whammy Bug, scary how fast and far that thing spread, isn't it?

It was kind of a fluke that I got to this length for a chapter, nearly three times as long as the previous.

I'll try keep it to about this length best I can, probably won't be nearly as quick either, sorry, with length comes time in most cases.

That said, if you see errors that I missed please PM them to me.

Read and Review!

Come on, I know you want to!


	7. Chapter 7

AN: Here we are again, hurrah.

* * *

As suggested to him, Harry went to the bookstore Old Man Ollie had told him about as soon as he left the wand shop and bought the book on magical beasts that detailed a lot of information on magical animals, though Harry was only interested in one at the moment.

As soon as he bought the book Harry retraced his steps back to the Leaky Cauldron, found a place to sit for a while, making himself and his new book invisible to everyone (it'd look just a _tad_ bit suspicious if there was a book floating in mid-air turning its own pages after all, even in a magical community some things had to make _some_ sense or people would become too curious for their own good) before looking through it.

'Chizpurfle…clabbert…crup… _demiguise_ there you are.' Harry knew almost immediately why this creatures hair was to be his wands core.

'Found in the far east, wherever that is…resembles an ape with big black eyes…it can vanish just like me, that's a plus… it can bloody tell the future! That's another plus…oh, it's a herbivore, minus… its hair is used to make invisibility cloaks, I'll have to watch out for those…oh but they only work for a limited time before they turn opaque, what a shame.' He thought as he read, closing the book.

Harry looked at the book, just about to put it in his bag when he came to a realization, looking between the book and his bag.

His backpack was not going to do him much good if he needed to carry more books (his current one barely holding everything he had right now and this new book on magical beasts was really stretching the limits of its capacity, not to mention Harry's capability to carry the thing), especially if they were the size of the book on magical beasts.

Harry left the Leaky Cauldron under the cover of invisibility (the feeling of that illusion was so addictive, it was like Harry had to have it on him at all times to feel normal) in search for something better to use for storage, after all this magical world _had_ to have a solution to that, they had bags with expansion charms on them after all.

So Harry spent a handful of minutes sussing out the Alley and its connecting partner alleys for a trunk or bag that catered to this need, which he did eventually find after circling the shops of the Alley twice, which had made him quite sore from lugging a heavy weight on his shoulders and back.

As it turned out, to an amazed Harry, they did indeed have a solution to his storage problem, sure it was one that cost him a buttload of money to buy but Harry believed that the price was well worth the rewards it gave.

Harry left the trunk store with half the money he walked in with but had on his person a multipurpose Seven Compartment Trunk with a shrinking charm for easy transport (trunks, he reasoned, would get really heavy over time, if they weren't already due to their size, best to solve that issue before it became a problem) and an extension charm layered on the last three compartments, one to store his cauldron and other large purchases (when he got around to it), one to hold all his books (and there was going to be a lot of them in the future) and the last for all his clothes. Complete with a lanyard for Harry to carry it, when it was shrunken, around his neck.

Now that Harry didn't have to contend with carrying a heavy weight on his back anymore Harry went off in search for the next most expensive thing he had to buy, the uniform.

Harry found Madam Malkin's Robes for All Occasions easily enough, the purple wood easily helping its golden lettering, and scissors symbol above its front window, stand out. Taking a deep breath, Harry entered the shop.

Something about young boys and clothes shopping just did not mix, well for most of them, of which Harry was part of the majority.

Harry had barely taken a few steps into the store before he began taking a cursory look around.

The shop, like any clothing store was filled with mannequins dressed up in clothes, all of which Harry found utterly distasteful.

'Robes…ugh.' He couldn't help but think, seeing at least half a dozen different styles and colour combos. 'And I have to wear _this crap_ for a uniform too.' Harry stifled a groan, seeing a mannequin in dark robes with a crest Harry recognised from his acceptance letter.

He was, unfortunately not totally successful, his groan drawing the attention of someone in the shop.

"I'm sorry but my days totally booked out," Harry heard a woman say. "Come by first thing tomorrow. The shop opens at nine if you'd like I have an opening then."

Harry managed to utter a positive answer before fleeing the store, whereupon Harry realized something else.

The day was getting late, he'd need to leave soon.

But before that, he needed to buy a few other books, the book by Scamander wouldn't hold his interest too long.

After finding and looking through the shelves of a random bookstore (and there was a lot of them in the Alley) Harry picked out just one, Modern Magical History, paid for it and left the shop and the Alley for Charing Cross Road.

He really needed to find a place to stay until September, preferably a motel or inn.

'I won't be caught dead in that back alley inn.' He thought, his mind conjuring up images of what rooms in the Leaky Cauldron were like based on the looks of the pub he walked through, none of them positive.

Harry did eventually find a motel, using a clone to rent out the needed room for a really cheap price (if you got the skill, use it) Harry read the history book till he fell asleep.

Tomorrow was going to totally suck.

=^o.o^=

Harry was used to early wake ups from his pre-illusion days at the Dursley's so he had no trouble getting up and ready pretty fast before having to leave, making sure that he got to Madam Malkin's shop on time.

Which he did with little fanfare. He was good at dodging people that couldn't see him.

He'd barely opened the purple framed door of Madam Malkins Robes for All Occasions when he was greeted.

"Oh good morning young man!" a white-haired, squat sized lady decked out in mauve robes spoke up cheerfully, adjusting robes on a moving mannequin. "You must be the one from yesterday afternoon, sorry I didn't see you properly." She gave Harry a quick once over.

"You must be here for Hogwarts robes, am I right?" she asked, noting Harry's size.

"Right this way." Harry hadn't even said a word before the woman was ushering him onto a dais near totally surrounded by mirrors, a dozen strings of measuring tape scattered around the platform.

After standing on the tiny podium the lady, who Harry assumed was Madam Malkin (unless Madam Malkin was just the name of the shop and said lady didn't actually exist, this woman just being an employee or shop owner), asked Harry to raise his arms up and out so they could be properly measured. Just as Harry did as requested the tapes strewn around the stage sprung to life like snakes, which began wrapping around all parts of his body.

Madam Malkin meanwhile merely summoned a scroll of parchment and a strange looking feather with her wand (to which Harry rolled his eyes at writing with a quill and parchment) before she began writing down measurements, circling Harry constantly.

Madam Malkin must have seen the alarm on Harry's disguised face at the floating tapes around him (Harry making sure that his illusion façade mimicked his expressions to sell its believability, you could never be too careful after all) and patted his hand, trying to reassure him that everything was fine.

"Don't you worry young man, it's just an animation charm on the tapes so I don't have to do each measurement one by one, it's completely harmless." She assured him. Harry, however, did not at all feel comforted by her attempt at consoling him.

Harry, as a consequence of years of staying hidden from being seen by the Dursleys (and the years before Harry learnt his illusion skills when the Dursleys had mistreated him physically), his peers at school and his neighbours, Harry hadn't been touched by another person in a _very_ long time and the feeling of another person touching him skin to skin, let alone animated tape measurers, made him very uncomfortable, almost panicking.

Which ultimately led Harry, right then and there, to decide on his next big project to increase his Illusionary prowess.

'I need to make a clone or _something_ that can take my place physically.' He declared whilst doing his level best to maintain his composure. He was mostly successful, able to calm his beating heart from pumping like a jackhammer to a ticking clock after a few minutes of deep breathing with his eyes closed tight, letting the woman go about her business.

Ten minutes after that when Harry had gotten a hold on his raging heart rate the tapes dropped to the floor, the sound and feeling of nothing wrapped around him making Harry open his eyes in relief.

"All done young man, your robes will be ready for you to pick up within a few days, I will send you an owl when they're ready, I just need your name before you go on your way." She told him.

'It's a wonder you didn't ask me that when I walked in the front door…' Harry thought, a little apprehensive of giving his name considering what doing that had done to the crowd in Gringotts.

'Ah the hell with it, can't really hurt if it's just her, and if something does go wrong then I can vanish pretty quickly.' Harry decided after a few seconds of considering his options.

"I am Harry Potter ma'am." His parting words before leaving the shop left the store matron gaping like a fish out of the water until the door opened again, snapping her out of her stupor.

"I just met Harry Potter." She murmured, just loud enough that the newly arrived Lucius, Narcissa and Draco Malfoy heard her.

Then she squealed making all three Malfoy's wince while thinking.

'I didn't see anyone.'

=^o.o^=

Next on Harry's agenda was buying a cauldron. Thankfully he knew where the shop for those was, it was hard to miss, what with them strewn around the front of a shop as advertisement next to a sign that read Potage Cauldron Shop.

Making his way to the north side of Diagon Alley, (where Harry remembered seeing the shop) Harry was quick to enter, state his intended purchase, buy the cauldron and leave, being sure to get the clerk or the owner of the store (there was only one woman in this shop too, which Harry thought strange) to place the cauldron inside his trunk (resizing it and opening the right compartment).

Harry's next stop after that was a shop to buy potions ingredients for the cauldron that he'd just purchased.

'This is going to be a tiring week.' He thought morosely as he walked towards another shop.

=^o.o^=

Meanwhile, at Hogwarts in the Headmaster's office, Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore was feeling a growing sense of alarm building up within him.

He'd just received a letter from his old friend Garrick Ollivander. That by itself wasn't strange but the contents of the said letter, on the other hand, were quite telling, quite a few somethings had not gone the way that Dumbledore had planned them to.

Albus scanned the letter again, his eyes rereading the same passage for the umpteenth time.

 _…the holly and phoenix tail wand that you believed Mr Potter would bond with rejected him in a most spectacular way…_

Dumbledore was an accomplished, learned man, he liked to think he knew a few things about wand lore, having just such a book in his vast collections, one specifically about wand wood and what each wood type said about a person's character.

Walking briskly to one of his many bookcases, the long-bearded man retrieved the wand lore book detailing woods, flicking through it till he found the page on Holly, the wand wood that he was sure would be Harry's wand of choice because of the kind of childhood Dumbledore had orchestrated for him to endure.

'It clearly says here that Holly wands are considered to be protective, for those that are in need of assistance overcoming tendencies towards anger and impetuosity, that they are wands that are chosen by those who are engaged in a spiritual quest, the kind of mindset I need Harry to be in when he arrives here at Hogwarts, he needs to accept that he has a mission…what happened to change that?' the aged man asked himself, various scenarios popping into his head.

'That Harry didn't bond to Tom's brother wand means that my plans will need to be recalculated…' Dumbledore thought, going over the various woods Harry's wand could have been made of, with no hints at all from Garrick it was all guesswork until Albus met the boy face to face and saw the wand for himself.

Albus had been expecting a downtrodden eleven-year-old boy to walk through the halls of Hogwarts, and as Tom had done decades ago, treat Hogwarts as an escape from his life… after what Albus had just spent the last ten minutes reading and rereading from the wand maker however that didn't seem to be a very likely scenario.

Closing and shelving his book on wand lore (a gift from Garrick Ollivander for Yule one year more than a decade ago) the aged headmaster began to pace around his office, trying to conjure up possible plans, each one differing heavily based on how young Harry had grown up with his aunt, if Harry was acting at all like Tom had when he was young then things could get very messy.

To that point, because he didn't have Hagrid to sow the seeds in Harry about Albus Dumbledore being the paragon of what a wizard should strive to be, he needed to think of another way. Thankfully Albus had a family in mind that would fill that role nicely. As he was already planning on using the Weasley clan in some of his other plans it wouldn't hurt to get a jump start on a few other plans of his by using them ahead of schedule, it would just take a little recalculating on his part to make sure that everything flowed seamlessly.

A perched phoenix who was positioned close to the main desk in the office just watched Albus, with its coal-black eyes unblinking as the man continued to scheme.

=^o.o^=

At the end of a week since Harry first entered Diagon Alley and entered Gringotts, Harry had successfully acquired all of his necessary First Year supplies, picked up his school uniform, bought a few other books to alleviate his developing boredom on various subjects, quite a few of them on potions safety (he'd need to learn those things till he was finished developing his physical clone stand-in, deciding to call _those_ clones phantasms) and ingredient preparation.

If brewing potions were anything like cooking food then Harry was going to be well prepared.

Oh sure, he had looked through the texts on charms and transfiguration too, in his young mind, Harry believed that with his additional skill of projecting something out of his head into reality, that those spells wouldn't give him much trouble.

Harry had flicked through all of his texts really as if there was one thing he had learned growing up, if you were going to lie about something make sure that you had all the bases covered to make it believable.

He had learnt that from Petunia's mistake about his parents.

Until Harry received the letter from Old Man Olli about his wand being finished, that's all Harry did, he sifted through his texts, seeing what this Hogwarts place was really going to teach him, so he was sitting in a motel on the bed flipping pages.

"Wand lighting charm… light the tip of the wand, so it's like a torch, pass. I could do that now without a wand." Flicking a few more pages Harry came upon a different spell.

"Softening charm softens a targeted area making it rubbery or bouncy…that has potential." Several more page flicks.

"…Severing Charm…cuts targets up, that's a nice one, have to remember that one." Harry bent the corner of the page in to mark it for later before continuing his page flicking.

"Fire Making spell…this charm sets targets alight…it's like this book it being read by idiots. Eh so knows when I'll need that one, marked." Harry marked that page too before continuing.

"Unlocking and locking spells… it's like they give permission to kids to break into places they shouldn't go…"

"Repairing charm…yeah, I suppose that could be useful but I'm not going out of my way to learn it."

Thus Harry reached the last spell at the end of the book.

"Levitation charm, to make objects fly under your command, that one will be fun." His eyes glowing brightly with an ethereal gleam.

=^o.o^=

After a few days of flicking through his school texts and quickly becoming bored with them, Harry turned his attention to hammering out an outline for his future phantasm ability, kicking himself for not thinking of doing that sooner.

This project, unlike the WB, would be much harder to create, whereas the WB was only an ever expanding net for people to be affected by his illusions, giving Harry the added benefit of a type of Extra Sensory Perception, it did nothing else apart from that and Harry didn't have to interact with it or control it in any way.

The phantasm Harry had in mind, on the other hand, was so much trickier as Harry was going to, eventually one day, manage to manifest a physical magical construct that could act in Harry's place physically to do hands-on things that Harry either did not want to do or that were too dangerous in one way or another.

Which made it one thousand times more complex than his standard clone, the power output alone would be staggering. On the plus side to the negative of magical cost, Harry planned on giving the phantasm the ability to cast magic in his stead, theorising that because the phantasm was going to be made of magic it would be able to shoot out magic as well; that however would come much later when Harry had a basic working phantasm mainframe, which would take a very long time to figure out, months if not years to get working.

'Create the skeleton of the phantasm first though, everything else can come after that' Harry reasoned, dividing up his project into smaller and smaller chunks.

'Really hope I won't need the phantasm any time soon…'

=^o.o^=

Working on his phantasm had taken up a lot of Harry's time ( many days had passed with Harry barely noticing, only stopping long enough to eat, drink, sleep and use the shower and toilet), his ambition not to be in a situation like he'd been at Madam Malkins his primary motivation pushing him forward.

It was late at night and Harry was extremely frustrated with his lack of progress, he couldn't do anything with the phantasm as he wanted, anything he imagined into existence in front of him.

Giving into an impulse Harry pelted the mattress with his fist, letting out a silent yell of frustration.

'Nothing is bloody working!' he internally raged.

'I'm starting small but everything I create isn't physically touchable, just like my clones…' he thought, his mood starting to plummet, slumping onto the bed like he was boneless.

Was this as far as Harry could go with his prowess?

Would Harry not be able to finish the phantasm?

"!" Harry shot up as if he'd just been zapped.

"I've been going about this all wrong from the very start, I'm such an idiot!" he exclaimed, smacking his forehead for added measure.

"The reason everything I've been trying has come out the same is because I'm using the same method that I use to create the clones with, if I want to create a phantasm with a physical presence then I need to do so in a way that is different to the clones method, I've been doing it all wrong the whole time!"

Harry had used the one and the only method he'd stumbled on as a six-year old that he never considered trying a new approach.

Well, he was going to create one, or die trying.

=^o.o^=

When Harry woke the next morning he was a buzz of energy, he _was_ going to make progress today, he could feel it in his magic.

Harry quickly went about his morning routine (the one Harry developed since he began staying at the inn anyway), getting dressed and walking to a nearby fast-food chain for breakfast before returning to the inn to brush his teeth.

When he finished doing all that the real work could begin.

Starting with a different way for him to shape his illusions.

"Start from the bottom and work your way up." Harry told himself.

As he was about to begin, however, an owl appeared at the side window to the door of the room Harry was residing in and began pecking at the glass.

"Huh?" Harry went over and opened the door, letting the owl in. The owl was carrying a tied note to its taloned leg, of which it offered to Harry. Untying the note the owl spared not a second longer and took off out the door.

Unfurling the letter Harry was a little surprised that it was from Old Man Olli, telling him that his wand was ready for pickup at his earliest convenience.

"Has it been a week already? Huh…"

Harry made quick work of leaving the inn to Charing Cross Road and through the Leaky Cauldron to Diagon Alley to end up at Ollivander's shop.

"You came earlier than I expected, staying at the Cauldron?" Garrick asked curiously. Harry snorted in amusement.

"You'd only see a fake me their old man, I'd never stay there by choice, this whole High Street is too old-fashioned for my tastes. But I'm not here to talk about that, you said my wand was ready?"

"Yes, indeed it is Mr Potter," Garrick said bringing out a box from under the counter he was standing at, Harry noticing that it was a fair bit bigger than the other boxes in the shop.

Harry must have made a surprised face at the boxes size, as the wand maker hummed an affirmative noise.

"Yes, this is a particularly unique _wand_ , probably the only one of its kind I shall ever make." He said taking the lid off the box to retrieve the foci inside.

It was a foot long and stained a dark grey, a completely different colour to what Harry was expecting it to be, given the wood it came from. Then he actually got a proper look at it and gawked.

"Each wood changes its colour during the bonding process of the core to the wood Mr Potter, don't look so surprised." Ollivander chided playfully.

"You know damn well that that's not the reason I'm gawking at it old man! It's a friggin' _club_! You told me it was going to be a wand!" Harry exclaimed, looking at the object in the old man's hands.

"Yes, when I carved out the handle and shaft for the wand from the wood you chose, they were quite different, before and after I enclosed both halves around the core. I left the room in the back of the shop to give the wood and core time to properly blend so I didn't accidentally add my magic into the mix when I returned the wand looked like this. And it is not a club, Mr Potter, it is a sceptre, albeit a wooden one with no jewel but a sceptre none the less."

"Yeah but…"

"I have seen only a few times in my life Mr Potter when a wand has changed from its predestined look…I believe that your wand, sorry, your sceptre is a reflection of your magical abilities. I am an old man Mr Potter and I have heard of a lot of things in my long life." Ollivander began.

'I can only hope this is going somewhere.' Harry thought with an eye roll.

"One of the fables I was told by my grandfather when I was a young boy like you, which was told to him by his grandfather and his grandfather before that, and even his grandfather before that as a matter of fact-"

"Yes I get it, this story came from a very long time ago! Get on with it." Harry asked, aggravated at having to listen to a long boring ass story.

"Yes well as I was saying, wands, as they are now, weren't like they were back then; in fact, magical people that used sceptres as a focus to channel magic in those days were considered Mesmer's… Masters of the Mirage, much like yourself and your illusions. Unfortunately, the name of what they were called is all I or any of my family, know of them."

"Oh… no interesting stories to tell this time?" Harry muttered in fake disappointment.

"Not this time Mr Potter, all you get this time is a title of a magical people long past. Now if you would take your sceptre?" The wand maker ushered, holding the sceptre in his outstretched palms.

As Harry took the last few steps forward Harry saw the dark grey timber looked like a single piece of wood , thin at the handle (with a type of hook end at just below that to attach to Harry's person when he wasn't holding it) growing thicker as it went upward, looking as if it was curled up upon itself in a bulbous knot at its top. At its thickest, widest section around its crown was six dented slot like spaces, with one final slot like space at the very tip on the sceptre's thickest end. Its total length finishing at exactly fifteen inches (realizing his initial estimate of its length had been in error), vibrating with power.

And it was _calling_ to him, to his magic, he could _feel_ it.

Not an altogether long or large sceptre to be sure but it was definitely too long to be a wand.

"Take it, Mr Potter, it is eager to feel it's masters magic." Ollivander urged further, nearly insisting.

Taking hold of the thinnest part of the wood a little ways before its thinnest tip (helped by a grooved in pattern, like a handle), Harry lifted his sceptre up, swirls of magic surrounding Harry in a burst of power as sceptre found master, magic like Harry had never felt before coursing through his entire being. It washed over him and through the store, blowing loose bits lying around the store into walls and other surfaces, clones spontaneously appearing in flashes of Viridian with a sceptre of their own.

"Wow…" Harry said, taking in the full scope of what he was feeling, what he was seeing.

Until…

"That will be fifty galleons." A rather chipper Garrick Ollivander said, a gainful grin on his face. Harry's clones all mirrored Harry's outrage and all as one cried out.

"What!? Oh, you old son of a…!"

"It's a fair deal Mr Potter, demiguise hair is by no means cheap."

"Fine! Ok, you old windbag…"

"A word of caution Mr Potter, on top of what I have already told you there is something else; more of a legal matter more than anything," Ollivander spoke up again, as Harry was counting out the galleons in his coin bag.

'Aw crap, there's a downside…shit he made me lose my place! What was I up to? Thirty-seven?' Harry sulked.

' _You were at thirty-two actually.'_ Harry didn't know how it happened, but he could swear that was one of his clones, if not all of them at once, talking to him in his head just then.

That was certainly new.

'Never made clones with a sceptre before though… something to look into.' Harry thought, before realizing he'd missed the first part of what Ollivander was trying to tell him.

"Say that again, I got a little distracted." Harry had the decency to feel a little sheepish.

"Normally on every wand sold by me to every Hogwarts student there is a trace on them for the Ministry of Magic's Misuse of Magic's office to keep track of, in case you do something you are not supposed to be doing happens when they deal out the punishment and reverse what was done. It falls into a statute about underage sorcery, until you are seventeen you are prohibited from using magic unless at school. This trace could not be applied to your sceptre, despite my best efforts to do so. You must be exceedingly controlled in using its power Mr Potter or the consequences will be dire if you are caught."

"So you're telling me that you tried to put this trace on it but my sceptre wouldn't play ball, it that right?" As if answering the question for Ollivander the sceptre pulsed a single beat in Harry's hand.

"Yes that's correct, it seems your sceptre is a wee bit of the sentient side too, it can make decisions of its own accord, such as fighting the trace I tried to place on it six times."

Harry's sceptre pulsed angrily six times back.

"Uh huh…ok then."

"Do not think, however, that you are free to go about casting whatever magic you want, there are wards erected in a lot of places that are able to pick up underage magic, regardless of your sceptre having the trace on it or not magic cast by it will still register on them."

"Right ok, don't cast magic to chance to get in trouble with the law, got it. Can I go now?" Harry asked, near whining. Garrick drew his wand and flicked it at the pile of gold coins on the bench next to his register.

"You're seven galleons short."

"Oh, you son of a…!" His clones all snickered at him before fading away, mercifully without a flash of colour.

Having metered out the correct amount Harry couldn't help one last barb before he fled the shop, leaving an afterimage in his place as he left.

"Got to tell you old man, if I _did_ do something, especially now that I have this," he swirled his sceptre in hand. "The people in charge would never find me unless I wanted them to."

The afterimage faded away leaving Ollivander alone, the old man began feeling a little nervous about what had just happened.

'I didn't even see him do anything, unlike last time… I hope I don't come to regret this sale.'

=^o.o^=

From then on till September First Harry had sequestered himself inside the room at the inn he was staying at, Harry didn't even know what it was called, all Harry saw was a sign that said Inn, so Harry went in, where the supervisor in charge was easily distracted.

So what if Harry was skiving some money by not paying for the room, by the time they figured something was up Harry would be long gone.

As Harry got more familiar with his foci, taking to holding it all the time or keeping it really close, Harry began to experience funny episodes in his sleep, not dreams, as Harry could tell that whatever these incidents were they were way too vivid to be mere dreams.

The first episode that Harry could remember clearly was about the Mesmer's undergoing training in a class of four, each with their own sceptre flinging balls of energy at a target, a teacher scoping the group telling them bits and pieces.

Mesmer's were Masters of Mirage, to the ordinary person they were unseen until they were dead.

The Mesmer always played the field to their advantage, if the field wasn't then they changed it till it was with illusions that warped the area.

Mirage Masters could weave deceptive magic that could confound, disorientate and dumbfound a specific target or a whole area unseen, dealing devastating damage to their enemies without even a whisper of their presence being noticed.

Harry woke up after that Episode, realizing that he had already mastered some of those skills, the most basic one at the very least: The Clone.

In fact, the phantasm that Harry was working on was remarkably similar to of the Mirage's skills, which could be amassed to as large a number as desired.

There was also bits and pieces of teleporting, temporal manipulation, astral projection (Harry _had_ to learn that), _Chronomancy_ (Harry was just about _salivating_ at what he could do with _that_ ), and special writings that did _things_ that made Harry's head spin so bad he couldn't understand up from down, left from right, inside from out.

Above all, much to Harry's relief, these episodes gave Harry only glimpses of information, some he didn't understand _yet_ , other bits he figured out already and segments of intel that Harry needed to complete his phantasm.

A Mirage Mesmer was insanely powerful, bordering on the totally ridiculous.

Children at young ages were asked all the time what they wanted to be, what they wanted to do with their lives when they grew up to be adults.

By the time September First came, Harry had experienced enough episodes in his dream state that he knew what he wanted to be.

It would take a really long time for him to figure it all out, but he was going to get there come hell or high water.

The world would see another Mirage Master.

=^o.o^=

As a little treat to himself for coming as far as he had _by_ himself, on August Thirty-first Harry happily strolled down the path of Diagon Alley to Magical Menagerie to buy himself an owl.

'Everyone has one, I better get one so I'm not caught flat footed exactly when I need one.' Harry thought as he entered the store.

It was a loud store, messy with empty cages of all types and sizes lining one wall, the other three covered with cages containing animals.

Harry counted rats, at least four breeds of cat, puffskins, toads of various species, lacewing flies and firecrabs, birds, a giant orange snail, owls and a transforming rabbit all for sale; sounds coming from all of them with customers congregating around the stores centre looking at various caged animals and talking amongst themselves, either talking about if they were going to buy something or just looking around (by which time if you were found to be one of those people after five minutes of aimless wandering you were asked to leave).

Harry shattered his invisibility as he began to sift through the owls available for purchase, stopped for a few seconds to look over a snowy white own before continuing on. Somehow he didn't think a white avian would be a good fit for the worlds future one and only Mirage Master, the colours would clash horribly.

As if the owl had been reading his mind (don't rule _anything_ out, ever) the snow white owl twisted its head sideways and have a hoot, as if to say 'you got that right'.

Lucky for Harry there were another one a few cages down from the snow white one, this one polar opposite to the white owl in it being that this owl was jet black.

"Well hello there... might you just be the most beautiful bird I've ever seen." Harry greeted.

The owl in response seemed to duck its head under its wing in discomfiture, letting out a fluttering hoot as if to say 'stop it, your embarrassing me'.

"Hey now, none of that! It takes some of your beauty when I can't see those gorgeous eyes of yours." Don't ask him why he was talking to an owl like he was, he just felt like it.

The darkly feathered owl removed its wing from its head, looking back at Harry, indignant.

"Hey now, that's no way to behave towards someone that's thinking of getting you out of this shop, is it? It's a wonder no one has bought you yet." Harry commented. The owl flared its wings several times and snapped its beak; drawing the attention of a store clerk just settling a discussion with a dissatisfied patron that no, the shop did not sell lizards like that and to go elsewhere for their purchase.

"I see that you have found one of the stores more feisty owls that we've acquired recently. This one and the white one several cages down are two of the most intelligent I've ever seen, if a little bit temperamental." They said, earning a screech from the dark owl.

"I reckon they didn't appreciate that slight against them," Harry responded dryly.

"Yes well, as I said, these two owls are quite smart adding in that they're both female I'm not surprised that they would take to a comment like that without a word of their own. Unfortunately for us here at the shop, it makes for a hard sell." The clerk told Harry.

"Hard sell because…?" Harry asked openly.

"They are quite vain alright." The clerk finally admitted, a touch of frustration colouring his tone. "The owls know that they are beauties and think higher of themselves because of it. In fact, you're the first one that I've seen in the last few days that were even able to get a reaction out of this owl."

Harry turned from the clerk to the owl, looking at its eyes for a moment before coming to a decision.

"I'm sold, let's talk price, I think this bird and I are going to get along just fine."

"Thirty-five galleons." The clerk said instantly. Harry shot the man a dead look.

"I just bought a custom wand from Ollivanders with a price tag of fifty galleons." Harry looked at his future owl. "Can you believe this guy? He's using _you_ to rob _me_."

The owl squawked. 'How dare this heathen use me like that!'

"Ah…well I suppose that was a little steep for a first offer, and you are here by yourself as I don't see anyone with you…twenty-five galleons." The clerk hedged.

"The bird by itself is worth twenty, throw in a few bags of owl treats, a stand and a cage and you've got a deal." Harry countered. No, he didn't actually know what the bird was worth but he was going to be damned if that was the final price, that he wasn't going to get something else out of it.

The clerk seemed to seize at the offer, an uncertain look crossing his face.

"I'll have to ask my supervisor first." The store clerk hedged again.

"Sure, go to your supervisor and tell him you're trying to lose a good deal with Harry Potter, see where that gets you," Harry told the man offhandedly, just about shooing the man away.

Harry knew what using his name so brazenly in a setting like this would do but there was no way he was going to pay so much for an owl by itself without getting something else out of it, his supply of galleons were beginning to dwindle after having to pay so much for his sceptre.

The clerk's face went white, his eyes darting to Harry's forehead to spot the fabled scar.

Annoyed at the action, Harry shifted his fringe and undid parts of his disguise around his head to show the man what he was looking for.

'Why don't just mesmerise the guy into giving me what I want? No! don't think like that! Idiot!'

Seeing the jagged like on Harry's forehead the clerk's face went white before beating a hasty retreat to find his immediate supervisor. This, unfortunately, had an effect on the crowds around Harry within the store as well, many of them, most of the younger people at or around Harry's age looking at him and whispering excitedly.

Others within the store who were older and more grown up were also looking at him, several of whom were edging closer to Harry trying to get a hold of him.

'Aw hell, use my name, for _one_ thing, just _one_ and this crap happens.' Harry thought in consternation, making a quick clone and reapplying a stronger invisibility illusion, this stoop had far more people in it than a seamstress in a robes shop with animated tape measurers.

The first person that tried to make a grab for the clone fell forward and to the floor with a thud.

"Don't look at me, he left the shop already." The clone told the crowd airily before fading away. There was a crickets pause before people left the shop in a horde, trying to see where the Boy Who Lived had vanished to.

When the clerk came back with the supervisor to see the shop nearly empty both men were stupefied.

"Where did all the customers go?" the supervisor demanded from the clerk. Said employee quaked under the supervisor's blazing look.

"I…I don't know sir, I was talking to you at the time remember? You'd have to ask one of the other employees." The clerk stuttered out.

"Don't think I won't do just that! Your job isn't as safe as you think it is if anything _you_ did happened to lose us so many potential customers." The supervisor threatened.

Harry meanwhile was coming down from an adrenalin high, so many people swarming at him at once was something that he did not like at all.

'I'm just glad that those people were so easily persuaded by the clone as it faded…' Harry thought with relief, downgrading his level of invisibility a level as he returned to the black owl.

Said owl hooted at him in surprise. 'Wow, where did you come from?' Harry thought it was trying to say.

"I'm very good at disappearing when I want to. If…no, _when_ I buy you and we leave the shop I'll tell you if you want; I didn't go through all of _that_ to leave empty handed, like it or not I'm buying you and there's nothing you can do about it." Harry told the owl, making his way towards the nearly arguing clerk and his immediate superior.

"I'm told that you're Harry Potter, let's see it then." The supervisor, quite a surly man, demanded.

Not in a haggling mood of any fashion after the people scare that Harry had just had (not to mention how much of a tool the senior staff in front of him was being), Harry hit both the clerk and the supervisor with an strong illusion (stronger than what Harry would usually have cast as Harry had his sceptre in his hands when he'd cast it), selling them the idea that they'd agreed to the deal that Harry had suggested, the clerk speeding off to collect a perch and owl treats whilst Harry returned to the owl cage and opened it to the midnight coloured bird out, who chirped smugly at the snow white coloured owl as if to say 'see you later'.

"No need to be such a show off that you were bought before she was," Harry told his newly purchased owl chidingly, his owl just snapping her beak at him like she was telling him to shut up, settling on his shoulder.

Retrieving his trunk and placing his large purchases in their proper place after he unshrunk it, then shrunk it again when his task was done, Harry left the shop.

"I'm going to head out to where I'm staying, you can follow me if you want, or I can cast you invisible with me and we can go together."

His new owl twisted her head sideways as if asking 'What do you mean?'.

"I mean this." With no fanfare, Harry seemingly vanished from the owl's sight, though the owl could still feel that she was sitting on him she couldn't see anything to show that she was perched on top of anything.

The owl let out a low toned chirp Harry took to mean 'Cool! Do me too!'.

"Thought you might like that…" Harry said with a grin, including his new owl in his illusion while walking towards the Leaky Cauldron. Hopefully, he wouldn't have to come back to this high street for a long while.

His owl, which Harry had decided to name Lucy on his walk back to the inn (having taken it from the word hallucination, it wasn't magical in any sense but it came from a word that meant to trick people with illusions, which was Harry's _thing_ ; so when he suggested it to his owl she had accepted readily) was an eager listener and drank up everything Harry said as he spoke into the night when he got back to his room.

Petunia's tale of how his parents died on Halloween making Harry much more thankful that he had bought Lucy… he'd have someone to keep him company and confide in for the foreseeable future, even if it was just an owl it still counted in his book.

It was more than he ever had before after all.

* * *

AN: I figured fleshing out the full scope of his base abilities before Hogwarts starts was the best way to go about it (as well as set up a foundation for future ones as well), so that's what I've done.

The sceptre coming into play will change a thing or two for Harry. What those changes are exactly well... reader guesses are one of the things I enjoy the most about this format of writing.

If my depiction of the sceptre was not good enough for you, think Master Roshi's club/staff from Dragonball at 15 inches long with jewel insertion points around its thickest most wide area and top, that's what I was going for.

I will come out now and say I am very paranoid about writing the Hogwarts parts coming up, I have written a lot over the years and every time I get up to writing things like lessons and things school related I get lost very easily and it never turns out in a way that I am comfortable with.

And on that note of thing, I am uncomfortable with, I _can't_ know if something I'm writing works or not outside my head if no one tells me. With such little feedback, I can't know if it works or not if people view the chapter but say nothing about it.

As always if you see any errors please PM them, I'm doing all of this by myself with no beta.

Comments and/or suggestions you have, about the house Harry goes to, the friends he makes, how the teachers interact with this kind of Harry or he to them or anything else really is all welcome and appreciated.


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